


Still the Same

by kitmerlot1213



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mystery, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitmerlot1213/pseuds/kitmerlot1213
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU. The time is October, 1888, the place Whitechapel, in London's East End, and Steve and Danny are hunting Jack the Ripper. Or at least trying to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still the Same

**Author's Note:**

> This was expanede from a drabble of the same name that I wrote for powrhug's Drabblefest on her livejournal.

The East End of London was never a particularly joyful place but the worry and despair from the citizens of Whitechapel made the fog even more oppressive.

And Danny found that when people were out of sorts, they had a tendency to get into all sorts of mayhem. Just that night, he'd stopped two fights and one potential lynching, and he knew that it was only going to get worse. The longer an arrest took, the more agitated and on edge the citizenry would get.

As he turned the corner on Commercial Street, he caught sight of a familiar figure. He wasn't surprised that Steve was out and about despite the lateness of night. What he was surprised about was how furtively Steve was acting.

He appeared to be searching his pockets but when he saw Danny, he darted for the entrance of the closest alleyway.

Instinctively, Danny called out, “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

Steve paused before the alleyway, a slight smile creasing his face. “Danny, you don’t have a revolver. What are you going to shoot me with?”  
“Don’t call me, ‘Danny’! It’s ‘Detective Williams’ to you,” he huffed out.

“Oh I see, “Steve drawled. “Scotland Yard must be desperate to catch Jack The Ripper if they promoted you!”

“Aren’t you the clever one,” Danny retorted drily. “Why exactly are you in Whitechapel again?”

Steve sighed in annoyance. “I’m working for a client, that’s all you need to know.”

The two regarded each other in the dim light of the gas lamp, neither one about to give an inch. Finally, after a full minute past, Danny spoke first.

"Look, Steve," Danny had barely begun his sentence before he was rudely interrupted by derisive laughter.

"Oh, so it's 'Steve' now is it?" Steve sarcastically asked. "Now you're acting like my friend?"

"I was always your friend, you idiot!" Danny shouted. "I did my best to stop the Metropolitan Police from arresting you, but you just had to throw a punch." He shook his head wearily. "Just because you're some sort of a Picayune Detective, doesn't give you impunity to break the law."

"That's a 'Pinkerton Detective', and I know I'm not above the law," Steve gritted out between clenched teeth. "I just think the law can be bent a little."

"And that my friend, is where we differ," Danny replied.

Silence again fell between the two friends, neither one willing to look away from the other, despite the gloomy darkness.

This time, it was Steve who spoke first. "Is the great detective willing to hear a theory?

Danny sighed loudly. "How can I resist such charm?"

Steve gamefully ignored his friend's sarcastic quip. "On the night of September, 30, 1888, there was the double murders of Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes. Stride’s body was found in an alleyway on Berner Street and Eddowes was found in Mitre Square. The killer would have to have been walking at a brisk clip because the bodies were found 45 minutes apart."

Danny interrupted, "Not necessarily. A constable could make that distance in less then 10 minutes and walking at a normal rate."

"True," Steve acquiesced, " but only if the man knew the streets. The area of Mitre Square is a virtual labyrinth of blind corridors and alleyways."

Danny nodded, "I think everyone is in agreement that the killer’s a local man because not only does he know the streets, but he's recognizable to the local women and the poor unfortunates wouldn’t be afraid to go off with him."

"Now, here's where things get exciting." Danny looked up sharply at Steve's eager tone. "I know that another working theory is that the killer has medical knowledge because of various organs being removed."

Danny shook his head. "Medical knowledge is too broad a term. All the killer would have to know in order to remove a kidney would be the barest of anatomy, so that covers the medical field, but also the butchers in the slaughterhouses."

Steve paused significantly. "What about barbers?"

"Barbers?" Danny repeated thoughtfully, "I suppose they definitely fit the bill regarding dexterity with a knife, but I’m unsure as to their knowledge of the human form."

The two friends stood lost in thought, the enormity of how much they didn't know about the killer finally hitting them.  
Steve broke the silence first. "The police aren’t going to catch this man, are they?"

Danny had wanted to argue, but he looked down at the cobbled stone street, the truth finally sinking in. "Short of a confession or catching him in the act, we don’t have that many solid clues, so no, it doesn’t look good."

Steve shook his head. "No, I don't believe that." But before Danny could ask, Steve was speaking again. "You're going to tell me that between the two of us, we can't come up with a plan to catch this bugger?"

Danny tilted his head in consideration. "As long as it wasn't too crazy..." he trailed off.

Steve grinned in anticipation. "How about I buy you a pint, and we can put our heads together and come up with some ideas?"

Danny found himself smiling back, but then another thought struck him. "You do have money on you, right Steven?"

Steve tried his best to look affronted but failed miserably. "The one time I forgot.."

"One time?!" Danny interrupted. "Try all the time!"

They were still arguing as they walked into the pub The Black Eagle, unaware that a man had been observing them the whole time they'd spoken together.

The pair of them would bear watching. Their theories had gotten a little too close to the truth for his comfort.

The knife in his hand flashed briefly as he placed it back into his coat pocket, the silver of the straight edged razor gleaming briefly in the light from the gas lamp.

Yes, they definitely bore watching, and if necessary, he was prepared to stop their meddling.

He pulled the collar of his coat up and headed towards his home, easily blending into the darkness.


End file.
